I have returned. Kyoto, Japan is now 10,000 kilometers away again. I have yet to be home for more than a week and it certainly feels that way. I am call my friends for directions to their houses, forget to leave tips at restaurants, bow when I receive change from cashiers and often find myself dodging the left on crowded sidewalks. It seems as though I have strayed off my path. It seems as though I am lost. It has been too long since I have driven through the streets of Seattle, enjoyed the amazing international cuisine and hung out with close friends and family. With that said, there is no doubt that I am enjoying myself at home. However, the sudden and comprehensive change in my surroundings that I experienced just six days ago truly set me off my course.
The last few days I spent in Kyoto, Japan were for the most part unremarkable. I was operating on a "these-are-the-last-days" daily routine: cooking for one, biking all across town, selling the bikes I rode all across town, attending goodbye parties and getting to sleep far too late. It was with subtle realization, while I was carrying out this unremarkable pattern in the final throws of my Japanese exchange, that I came to understand the importance and pricelessness of the simple lifestyle I was concluding. I had almost come to the point of compiling a small list of trivial aspects of Kyoto life that I will come to miss. I never did write them down on paper, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to share a few nostalgic characteristics of the priceless past eleven months:
Japanese food: I may have eaten over 900 meals in Japan and I never once experienced the "gut bomb", "man I need to lay down" or "I am never eating that again"-type-of-feeling. Below is my final supper in Japan, prepared by Rakuraku's head chef and owner, Akira-san
My mode of transportation: I rode a bike with a basket and bell everyday in Kyoto. The metallic blue frame of my miniature mamchari (grandma-bike) had become an extension of my oversized body. I owe it all to my mamachari, the bike that seemed to ride itself home from late nights at the river, karaoke or Korean barbeque.
Bamboo: Much more interesting than Evergreen trees on all levels, especially sound and movement.
Studying Japanese by default: As a resident of Japan last year I was surrounded by Japanese everyday. From television, magazine, newspapers and conversation, I will always remember the power of immersion in language.
"This instant leads into the distant future"
Japanese as a common language: This was by far the most pleasurable aspect of my stay in Japan. As a resident in an international dorm, I had the opportunity to share showers, laundry facilities, kitchens and company with students from Sweden, Taiwan, Mexico, China, Norway, Korea, Germany and New Jersey. I did, unfortunately, spend a lot of time speaking in english with my fellow American dorm mates, but more often than not Japanese was the common language among the residents of Ritsumeikan International House II. Expressing my own personality and opinion in Japanese was challenging to say the least, but it did push me to utilize and apply the my Japanese in a very unique way. On the other hand, interpreting personality traits through conversation in Japanese became an amazing learning experience and a refreshing change in the process of forming new friendships.
It was truly difficult to say goodbye to my friends, the dorm, my bike and the streets I rode it through, the language I became so familiar with and the country of Japan that taught me so much. I have certainly not close the door to Japan.
Today is my birthday and yet I am so far from family and the close friends that usual surround me on this day. Instead I am in Japan celebrating with friends from all across the world; family surrounds me here as well.
OK, time travel. Two weeks ago I took advantage of a once in a lifetime opportunity involving the former Swiss Consulate General and a loyal friend from Australia. Last term, the fall and winter of 2007, I took an introductory class to interaction in the international community called Special Studies. My professor, Mr. Aviolat, was the former Swiss Consulate General and provided an amazing perspective on the course. He has lived on almost every continent for an extended period of time and has met the “famous and the infamous” (a quote from the 2000 Year Old Man). Either way, the class was designed for discussion, but with a majority of the students barely holding on to a basic understanding of English it was painful at times. At these uncomfortably quite junctures my close Australian friend, Jillian (Jill), and I would break the silence and share our comments, you know, to ease the tension, get the creative juices flowing. In the end the professor appreciated this effort to such a degree that he gave me his business card and invited me to his “club” in Kobe if I had any free time. I took the card gladly thinking, ‘Wow thanks, but you’re so old, is this creepy?’ Jill and I went to the club two weeks ago, far from creepy, borderline luxury.
An hour train ride on the JR line carried Jill and I to one of Japan’s oldest ports, Kobe. After a short walk we were picked up in front of Mr. Aviolat house in his car and were driven to the Kobe Club. The Kobe Club was established in 1868 shortly after the Meiji Restoration and was originally open only to foreigners. Over years it has become a hub of international interaction and hosts art exhibitions, that Mr. Aviolat organizes and hosts throughout the year. Check it out: http://www.kobeclub.org/modules/content/?id=1. So Jill, Mr. Aviolat and I had a nice drink and headed back to our professor’s apartment for dinner. I had a feeling of uneasiness at this point, like a ‘whoa, this is too much, I’m still in university, what am I doing why am I being wined and dined the former Swiss consulate General?’ type of feeling. Looking back at Jill’s face as we both entered our professor’s dynamic abode, I could tell she felt uneasy.
This is Jillian, from Australia, she's eating bread. The broken chair behind her on the wall was broken by Desmond Tutu himself
You know that smell, the smell a decadent life? There is a certain smell that resembles walls covered in foreign paintings, floors draped with one-of-a-kind hand woven carpets, a crowded living room of international furniture, tasteful music and a cute little women from Myanmar cooking dinner. I guess that was the kind of smell inside of Mr. Aviolat’s house. During the best dinner of my life, Mr. Aviolat happened to mention that Bishop Desmond Tutu had been sitting at that very table having dinner just a few weeks ago. Oh yeah, Desmond Tutu broke a chair, a nice one too. All that broken that night, however, was my waistline and my expectations for the hospitality I received from my professor. It was a very special was to say goodbye.
Adam and I at Rits
So I get home from Kobe still riding the high of that next-level experience and I find out that my good friend from Camp Solomon Schechter is staying at Myoshin-ji, a local temple, studying for five weeks in Kyoto. Without any delay, he and I make a time a date to meet up and before I knew it I was sharing the company of an old friend. He told me come to come to this small bar, Rakuraku, to have a couple of beers, food and listen to some live music. It may have been chance, destiny, Hashem whatever one would like to call it, but the night I met up with Adam Newman, my friend, there was a live Klezmer band playing at Rakuraku, no joke. After catching up a bit with Adam over a few beers and edamame, Hava Nagila came on and before I knew it I was on stage singing for a packed house of gaijin and goyim, about 15 people in total. The chef at Rakuraku, Akira-san, and his cute assistance, Kio-san, have become a new close friends and I will leaving going to visit them tonight for a little celebration.
klezmer
I was still in the middle of exams two weeks ago and as a last group event within the dormitory a bunch of my dorm mates and I gathered early in the morning and headed out to Osaka to go to the ever-famous SPA WORLD. Imagine a huge water park with slides, food stands, small pools and the works…on the 6th, 7th and 8th floor of a building. That is the kind of atmosphere SPA WORLD provides. However, if two thousand people crowding into small wave pools with children running, screaming and squirming all around you doesn’t float your SPA WORLD boat there are other options. This month the women were assigned to the European floor and the men to the Asian floor. So after bathing with two countless Japanese people, I decided to hit up the various Asian baths. Persian baths, salt saunas, extremely cold and hot baths and outside bath awaited me at every turn. Walking around with a damp towel on my head for hours, dipping into all kinds of medicinal baths really does something to one’s psyche; it gets you on the level. The mist enjoyable experience at SPA WORLD was definitely lying out on the tatami mats in Japanese room. Lining a 30-meter wall in the Japanese section of the 6th floor, there was a long stretch of tatami mat with headrests that allowed one to lie down and appreciate the comfort and simplicity of tatami. I appreciated and then fell asleep, after which I woke up and hopped into the cold bath; I never knew bathing could be such a rush.
farewell
i house farewell
i house farewell II
fireworks
A week after SPA WORLD, the Study in Kyoto Programme (SKP) held its bi-annual Closing Ceremony. It was very moving to hear my fellow students deliver speeches. For one, the content of the speeches was very reflective of all out feelings at the time. What was more amazing though was the speakers addressed the audience in Japanese. To be able to reminisce about the past year with everyone in the audience with Japanese as a common language was very special for me. The day after the Closing Ceremony I had my last exam and since then I have been running around like I have two weeks left in Japan, cause I do, actually only one now. My first stop was the ocean.
With Ai and Marina at the Farewell Party
Just a few days ago a group of seven friends, three off which I already knew, headed out to Osaka in a rent-a-car for a nice relaxing day on the beach. The short drive out there was very fun. I got a chance to chat in Japanese for a long period of time and we even got a traffic ticket. This was very interesting. Instead of the police officer filling out the forms in front of our car, he asked the driver to follow him to this bike. I was flabbergasted, because that exact situation is the kind that leads to a “World’s Wildest Police Videos” clip, at least in America. Running a yellow light in Japan takes a little bit of courage, a ten-minute chat with a respectable police officer and 9,000 yen (90 American clams), ouch. The beach was great. I made a sand castle, found a small crab, put it in my castle, soaked up some PTRs (prime time rays) and left with some nice pictures, a sandy towel and a satisfied smile. There’s nothing like taking a dip in Pacific 10,000 kilometers away from where one usually does-very stimulating, the ocean.
crab
My very good friend Kuri provided me with another refreshing experience just the other day. A 24 year-old Japanese man from Tokyo who returned back to university after spending four years in Tokyo working in the movie business right out of high school can only be expected to show a close friend a good time, right? Either way, I met Kuri in the smallest of allies in the northwest part of Kyoto the other night for my first “tachinomi” (literally, standing and drinking) experience. Next to the tiny restaurants and karaoke bars near Saiin station there is an even smaller bar with a capacity for twelve and that’s cutting it close. The men and one very attractive women that come to this “anaba” (literally, a whole somewhere, or in English a whole in the wall) are there for few reasons, fast service, crappy T.V., cheap and delicious food and of course to stay standing while they enjoy the company of their unmoving neighbours. I happen to come a lucky night where the store’s stock of maguro (tuna) was filled. There is nothing like a tall, cold beer, simple egg, salad and soft, rich maguro in the company of a good friend.
Beer, egg salad, Maguro . . .
Kuri actually also was the brains behind a group birthday celebration just last night; when one turns 24, I guess one’s sense of responsibility, if not already present, becomes overwhelming and if gone unused can, well, go unused I presume. Right, back to the birthday celebration. In the middle of downtown on the roof of the Takashimaya department store, I spent four straight hours laughing, eating and drinking beers in the warm summer weather and an entertainingly interactive atmosphere. A mix of my close acquaintances and Kuri’s old friend from his part time job and old school created a great environment for whatever limited interchanges people had between staring face-to-face with their beer jockeys or standing in line at the buffet.
The roof of Takashimaya, Asahi beer garden, Kuri is on the left
Today, 31 July, is not just my birthday. Today, in 781 Mount Fuji erupted; Emperor Nijo of Japan was born today in 1143; Fred Quimby, the creator of Tom & Jerry, which still serves as the monumental foundation of my adult character, was born today in 1883. With that off my chest, it will be much easier to convey the simple yet fulfilling day I spent reflecting on the last 21 years. I spent lunch with good friends today at a posh café near school and finally got a chance to tell them, three girls the came on exchange to UBC last year from Ritsumeikan, how I felt about living in Japan this year, learning not only Japanese, but how to live among the people that speak it. I walked home alone in the afternoon, cicadas ringing silently in and all around me; it took a long time to get home today, but I wasn’t lost. In the evening I went to Rakuraku and enjoyed some amazing food graciously prepared by Akria-san and his wife and was afterwards serenaded with a freestyle reggae happy birthday song by a slightly intoxicated Akira-san. I could not have asked for anything more except my family. I feel funny saying this though, for they are and will always be on my shoulders, as they continue to say.
Birthday Cake with dog stensil
Shout out to Luke McGrath, my good friend from New Jersey. Luke, you are home safe by now, but I House II has now a great void. I am going home in one week and plan on coming to the east coast soon enough, too bad they don’t have onsen.
